The Shadow Chronicle
by Alexandyne
Summary: At the same time as Inheritance, a girl Dragon Rider follows the footsteps of Eragon Shadeslayer through his journey. More detailed explanation inside.
1. Chapter 1

**Alright, so, alot of the things in the last book really bothered me. Like... ALOT. Because they seemed childish, almost. They didn't seem to have an explanation, not a good one, not a plausible one. So, what I did to explain some things in Inheritance is I invented a character who was going around, unobserved by Eragon (but not unobserved by all the characters) who actually fit into the plot line and explained things. Like his incredibly unrealistic feats of killing 100 soldiers at a time (let's be honest, you can be a pretty awesome swords man and maybe win 3-1. Or even 5-1. But 200-1? No, not even with his wards. That was pretty ridiculous right there.) and other little things. With this half of the story that I have invented, I believe that it will reinforce the final book and make it seem.. more realistic (as much as any magical dragon elf world a book can hold) and a little less child-like. **

**Now, before I start getting a bunch of complaints about "Oh, you think you can do it better?" or "Oh so YOU'RE a published author now?" or "Child-like? Who the hell do you think you are! He's FAMOUS, and you're who?" don't. I know how it sounds. I'm fully aware of how it sounds. But I do think with this background story, it will enhance the power of the book CP already wrote. I think he could have done better, and that maybe he just wanted to get it over with (understandable, he was working on the series for what, 8 years?) but in rushing it, it just... bothered me. No, I don't think I'm a better writer. No, I'm not published. But I do think I can make the story a little more... full fletched and realistic. So before you snap at me about being arogant or something or other, give this side of the story a chance. Enjoy.  
**

* * *

A shining pedestal was the only thing in the room. Atop the basin sat a wide, shallow bowl. The rim was decorated with small, chicken sized silver eggs, and in the center rose a silver egg veined with black. Around the center piece, three eggs were evenly and beautifully spaced so they made a triangle. The one closest to the door of the chamber was green. The two furthest were blue and red. Time passed, years upon years. The room saw but the face of one man, and the man's name was Galbotorix. Years trickled by, and one day in a flash, the blue egg vanished. Around the door and out of sight whipped a short mane of hair, and a magical alarm sounded. Somewhere in the distance, a black dragon roared. And then all was still for some time more.

Then the day came when a young man- a boy, really, came to the room. He brushed his hand over the red and green egg, and the red one cracked open. The boy reached out, astonished, and touched the tiny red dragon that fell from the crimson egg. In a flash of light the two fell to the floor, the boy with a scar on his palm now. They left, and for a long while the green egg was alone. Galbatorix was entranced when he came to the realization the eggs would still hatch, and he could manipulate them and their riders. So he set about finding the Rider for the green egg. A person, a new one, entered the chamber each day. Each day, they only touched the green egg. And, each day, they were led away. And then, something happened.

"Let me alone!" a voice echoed down the hallway. Galbatorix's brow furrowed and he glanced up from the transcript he was reading so furitively, and wondered at who was insolent enough to raise their voice in his palace. But he was feeling generous- perhaps he would only have their tongue instead of their heads today. He rose from his chair, carefully placing the transcript on the table, and walked out of the room. Down the cooridor some hundred yards off, one of his captains had his hand clamped firmly over a girl's mouth. The captain started speaking as he made his way down the hallway.

"Sorry, milord, the girl doesn't know her place. I was just about to show it to her," the man said, tugging at the girl's dress. Galbatorix arched an eyebrow at the captain, but didn't comment for a while, instead choosing to look at his compainion. The girl was odd-looking; she was no older than 16, and seemed to be made entirely of gold. Her hair was snow white and where the light hit, it glowed a soft yellow. Her skin was a golden hue, now flushed with anger, and her eyes were a light brown-gold. Other than her coloring she was perfectly average; average height, average weight, average build. Her uniform was simple, that of a serving girl, and her hands were clamped around the captain's arm, trying to loose it from her mouth.

"And what is it the girl has done that is so out of place?" Galbatorix said. He really didn't care much for the answer, but he wanted a moment to think. The girl was strange, and he knew dragons didn't go for the normal.

"She has sworn no oath to you," the captain said, his gloved hand moving sharply to cover her nose. The girl started kicking and then went limp, all her energy going into staying conscious. Galbatorix blinked, but restrained himself. He had a special feeling about the girl, and hoped she would be easy to manipulate.

"Oh, but I am kind," Galbatorix said, thinking quickly. "I do not need her oath. How about you let her be for a moment, perhaps?" The captain snapped to attention and dropped his arms away from the girl. The girl fell fast toward the floor and Galbatorix reached out to steady her. She gasped for breath and then attempted a curtsey, but nearly fell over again in the process. Galbatorix kept his face clean, but inside he was sneering. The girl was weak, she would indeed be easy to break.

"Thank you, milord,"she said when she regained her feet.

"Do you see fit to grace me with your name?" he asked, his voice milky sweet.

"Arnina, my lord. Arnina Elfrida," she said, pushing a curtain of white hair out of her face. _Strength, magic strength. What an ironic name for such a weak little girl_. Shruikan's words filled his mind, and Galbatorix couldn't help but smile.

"Arnina. What a lovely name," he said softly, his eyes flickering across her face. "Would you walk with me? Or would you prefer to walk with the captain? Don't worry I will return you to him later if that is what you wish." He flickered a glance at the slightly indignant captain, who's displeasure at having his toy taken away was evident.

"Oh, I would love to walk with you," the girl said quickly, forgetting all diplomacy and adding a belated "sire." With a shooing motion, he banished the captain and clasped his arms behind his back, and started walking in the general direction of the dragon room.

"Out of curiousity, my lord, may I inquire as to why you would deign to walk with a serving girl such as myself?"

"Don't condescend yourself so much. The palace runs on serving girls. Without you, where would we be?" Galbatorix lied. The palace would run just fine on magic, as far as he was concerned. And it would be a great deal quieter. The girl blushed, and they walked in silence for a moment.

"So you are not angry that I haven't sworn oath to you? Not a magic one, I mean," Arnina said.

"No, no of course not. I have confidence in you, should I not?" Galbatorix said, his tongue as smooth as silk. "Such a beautiful girl as yourself would never be a spy or a traitor, now would you?"

"No, my lord." Pleasure at the flattery flushed the girl's cheeks a light pink and she glanced down at her slippers.

"There is something I would like you to do for me, however." she glanced up sharply, her gold eyes narrowing slightly. She looked down humbly again, biting her lip.

"Anything, my lord... well, anything, so long as it is not killing."

"You do not kill?" he covered his irritation with the girl; she would be a rubbish Rider indeed if she didn't kill.

"I do not believe it is up to one to decide who deserves to live, and who deserves to die. Who decides the value of a life?"

"Beautifully spoken. I suppose that means you do not think well of me, with the war going on?"

"To the contrary, my lord. I think you have no option. You must fight back or watch your people slain. It is you who is the hero, and the- the- what do they call themselves? Varden? Yes, the Varden are the villains."

Galbatorix smiled and his irritation lessened, though the girl must have mistook the smile's meaning. Galbatorix was mentally rooting that the green egg hatch for the golden girl beside him; she was weak and already at his heels like a pup. She would be easy to twist to his will.

"I see it the same way, I am glad I'm not alone in my thoughts," Galbatorix said, slowing and stopping his stride as they came even with the dragon room. "But no, I do not want you to kill for me. I want you to enter this room and touch the egg for me. I want to see if it will hatch for you. If it does, then I will ask you to swear the oath to me. If not, then, you may continue to go about your day."

The girl looked at him, astonished. But she curtseyed and said, "As you wish." She made for the door, but Galbatorix stopped her. He softly uttered the words for allowing someone to pass through the protective enchantments, and then motioned her to go through.

"Are you not coming with me?"

"No, I find the dragons like it best alone with their Rider." The girl's face flushed and she vanished into the room.

Minutes ticked by, and eventually the door opened. The girl who appeared before him had her hair askew and an astonished expression spelled out across her face, with an awful attempt at covering it up.

"Did it hatch?" he asked sharply, somewhat surprised. The girl said nothing, but simply shook her head, white hair fluttering around. Distrust of the girl built in the pit of his stomach. _She was lying. _"Then you won't mind showing me your hands," he said, steel creeping into his voice. She held out her hands and her palms were bare, smooth, unscarred. His eyes traveled up and fixed on her gold ones, reaching out with his mind and touching her conscience. He felt her mind stir and pushed harder, and found thoughts of a farm with kittens. Stupid, simple minded thoughts. Disgusted, he withdrew without digging through any more of his thoughts and the girl turned from him and vanished down the hallway.

He started to follow her and then hesitated, pushed open the door, and looked inside. The green egg was still there. He closed the door, replaced the wards, and went back to his room with his transcript.

Arnina threw a glance over her shoulder and saw the figure of Galbatorix far away. Her mind was racing, and her heart was pounding even faster. She couldn't believe she had gotten away with the down right _lie _she had told Galbatorix. Her thoughts fluttered back and she replayed what had happened moments ago, trying to keep her hand from straying to her pocket.

Arnina had walked into the room and her eyes immediately were led to the center piece. She walked forward and saw two eggs displayed, and two empty hollows where clearly the others had been. At first she took the center egg, the silver and black egg, to be a decorative piece, but then she gave pause. The silver and black egg seemed to pulse, the black veins in it casting shadows in the silver light within. For some reason she couldn''t explain, she completely forgot about the green egg. The silver, metal egg took her breath away.

She reached out and brushed her fingers across the egg. It felt like cool metal beneath her fingertips, for all the world like the rest of the pedestal. Then, a crack ran up the side. Then another, and another, until a fine web of them spread across the egg and fell away. She wanted to cry out, frightened that she had broken the display and was now certain to be beheaded, but an instinct kept her silent. Her hand jerked away from where the egg had been.

From the center of the egg, a tiny silver lizard flickered it's tongue at her. Soft, iridescent wings were folded by the sides, and it's blue eyes shimmered as it looked at her. The scales seemed to be individually crafted, each starting out a white-silver and then ending up with a ring of black around the edge, fitting into theothers in a stunning pattern. In awe, she reached out a finger towards the dragon. She gave pause for a heartbeat, and pulled her hand away. Some instinct told her if she touched the dragon, Galbatorix would know about the dragon. She could not touch the dragon, not yet, not until she was well away from the man. So instead she covered her hand with her skirt and slipped the tiny silver dragon into a deep pocket of her dress.

"Shh," she told the dragon, and then pushed the eggshell back together. It didn't work as well as she would have liked, but for the sake of sneaking back through the door it would work fine. When she was confident the dragon was quiet, she trotted back to the door and pushed it open.

"Did it work?" he asked, glancing at her. She shook her head, her hair whipping about her eyes as she did so. Something on her face must have betrayed she was unsettled, because his eyes narrowed with distrust. "Then you won't mind showing me your palms?" Her heart started pounding and she held up her palms, feverently grateful for not having touched the tiny silver dragon.

His eyes were still studying her, trying to figure out why she was a but unnerved. He pushed open the door to ensure the green egg was still there and she hadn't stolen it, and indeed it was. He pulled it shut and uttered the enchantments to seal the door.

He reached out with his mind, probing at her consciousness, and she was tempted to try to fight it. She remembered the tales she had heard from the other serving girls about his magic, and knew she wouldn't stand a chance. So instead, she attempted to push the dragon from her mind and filled her head with thoughts of home and kittens and horses. Galbatorix scowled, but didn't question it. He motioned her away and she fled, trying to remain composed but failing miserably.

As the memory faded away to the present, she foudn herself infront of the door to the maid's chamber. She glanced around the hallway and found it empty, so she slid open the door and crept inside. Seeing as it was lunch time, the maids were away serving as she ought to be.

She padded silently over to her mat in the far corner of the room. Moth eaten blankets were thrown in disarray and her pillow was crumpled, but save for that her space was neat. Her clothing was folded crisply by the head of her mat, with the orange-gold cotton maid's dresses consisting of most of the pile. A few nicer dresses for occasions were there, and tucked into the pocket of her nicest royal blue gown was a golden amulet. In neat order down the side of her matt were three sets of shoes: riding boots, simple cloth shoes, and then a pair of slippers that went with her maid's outfits. At the foot of the bed there was her napsack and the rest of her posesions: a single black leather diary, a pot of ink, and a pair of black leather riding gloves.

She dropped to her knees on the bed and took off her slippers, and shoved them along with her cloth shoes into the bottom of the sack. She pushed through her clothing pile for a dress, not certain entirely what she was looking for or why. She finally found something that felt right: loose black pants and a blue and black cotton shirt, folded inside of a black riding cloak. Arnina quickly slid out of her maid uniform and into the attire, pulling on her boots and gloves after and piling the rest of her clothes into the napsack. She hesitated for a moment, and then decided the pillow and blanket would stay.

She sat on her mat for a moment, composing herself and taking several deep breaths. She would need a horse. She would need to leave and leave soon, to save herself from potentially getting found out by one of Galbatorix's spies. Best to leave now. She took one more deep breath and pushed herself to her feet and pulled on her napsack. A quiet chirping from her packt told her the dragon wasn't pleased with it's place in her tangled clothes, and she reached down inside her bag and wrapped her fist around it. She gently withdrew it and looked at it, it regarding her with somber blue eyes and flicking a silver tail back and forth. Its tiny claws dug into the leather of her riding gloves and she couldn't help but smile.

"Shh. Just a bit and then I'll give you the attention you deserve, alright?" she whispered, and slid it back into her pocket.

As she left the room, the surrealism that filled her mind began to subside, and she came to realize exactly what she was doing. She was defying perhaps the most powerful sorcerer in the entire world to have ever existed, one whom she had worked for for three years, one who could kill her with a thought. One that she was defying without any forthought, any warning, and all because of a tiny, grey, _lizard. _As if the dragon could hear her thoughts, a tiny snort of smoke came from her pocket.

She patted her pocket and then headed down the stairs. The front hall of the palace was empty, and she slipped through the side out the servant's entrance and went straight for the stables. A young stablehand noticed her and smiled, waving gayly. The child was maybe six years old, and Arnina searched her mind for the boy's name.

"Hullo Arenna!" he called out. He could never pronounce her name right, and always tripped over the harsh sound of the changing sylables.

"Hullo, Trent," she replied, smiling. "I need a horse."

"Okey," he said, and trotted over to the door where a parchment was. "What're'ya doin' and who for?"

"I'm... going overnight to Lord... Jaquental's to get something. He left his... favorite sash," she said, fumbling over her lie. She hadn't thought she would need one, for some reason, but of course the only reason a serving perrson ever got to use a horse from the stable was on official business.

"Alrighty. We've got Breaker in if you wannim," he said, turning to face her with big, innocent brown eyes.

"That would be lovely," Arnina said. Breaker was her favorite stallion, with a white flare on his forehead in an otherwise jet black horse. Trent disappeared into the dimly lit stables as another serving girl came to the door, bouncing on her heels in a hurry.

"TRENT!" the girl hollered. "I need a horse and NOW."

Arnina could see the little boy stumble trying to get Breaker out and hurry to help the other serving girl. "It's okay, Trent, I can saddle up Breaker."

"Tankyou, Arenna!" he stumbled over the TH sound and didn't pause long enough to correct himself as he trotted to take care of the other girl's needs. Arnina walked across the hay-strewn floor boards with the white-washed stall doors until she came to a door that, with a gold-painted name plate said "_Breaker_". The door to his stall was half way open and he already had a bridle on, and on the peg next to his door his saddle was mounted with a blanket folded over it.

She enticed Breaker out of the stall with some sugar she got from a shelf, and then pulled on the blanket and saddle. She double checked his girth to make sure it was tight and then adjusted the stirrups before leading him from the stable and pushing herself up into the saddle. Breaker stamped his hooves a few times and moved around until he was comfortable with the saddle perched on his back, and then they clattered across the cobbled square and through the big iron gates that emptied into the lower village.

She felt too exposed and worried she'd be recognized, so she pulled the hood of her cloak well up over her head and hoped it would hide the white of her hair. In the streets, a few people sat at store fronts or walked with buckets, but most were inside hiding from the heat of the high-sun, eating their lunches and waiting for the firey touch of the sun to pass so they could finish the day's work and go home. Out front of the bakery, Gregor was smiling. A blue shirt with flour all over it was loose over his rather prominent stomach and his black mustache was white with various cooking powders. He grinned broadly and waved at her before walking back into his shop. Further down the road, just inside the city gates was a pottery shop and under a hand-made awning Marla was sitting at her wheel with her hair in a bun, streaks of clay across her face as she worked at the piece in front of her.

Breaker clopped out of the gates and the space around Arnina opened up and the buildings became spread out. Small farm houses dotted rolling hills an pastures, and rows of tilled fields were full of crops. On the far edges of the fields she could see the forest rising up, tall and dark and full of flickering shadows and thick green growth. She tapped Breaker up to a canter and pulled off to a narrow track between a pasture filled with quiet cows and a field filled with rows of corn that came even with her head, in spite of the fact she was riding a 16 hands horse.

The wind picked up as Breaker slowed to a trot and he entered the trees and the leaves turned the hot sunlight into cool green shade. She had him walk through the trees for a ways until the farms faded behind her and gave way to the root filled path ahead. Then, finally, the path opened into a clearing with knee-high grass and wildflowers. She pulled Breaker up to a stop and swung off, landing in a crouch. An undignified chirrup came from her pocket as she jostled the dragon and she reached in and pulled it out. The dragon ruffled his wings and snorted smoke, kneading the soft black leather of her gloves. She sat down in the grass and put it in her lap and then pulled off a single glove and reached out a tentative finger towards the crest on top of the dragon's head.

In a sudden, blinding flash of silver light, pain lit in her hand and she stifled the urge to scream. Her vision filled with crimson and green dots and she fought the need to black out.

As her eyes cleared, she came to with the blue sky overhead and branches reaching into the clouds. Grass and flowers waved around her and she realized she was flat on her back at least two meters from where she had been, and she couldn't see the dragon.

Cautiously, she pushed herself upright and as she put the pressure on her left hand, tingles like electricity shot from her palm up her arm. Shocked, her arm buckled and she moved her hand infront of her face. There, on her hand, was a strange silvery scar. It branched from her pointer finger where she had touched the dragon, like a river of silver fire up to her palm where the scar of a dragon curled with it's tail by it's head. Even as she watched the dragon seemed to move, settling itself into her flesh and then freezing.

She couldn't come up with an explanation, but the dragon was silver like hers. For a moment she feared the dragon scar WAS hers, until she herd a sleepy chirrup from the grass several meters away. Scrambling on hands and knees, she dug her way through the grass stems until she found the little silver serpent laying there, dazed. It blinked slowly up at her, then curled up in her palms and thrummed peacefully. The sound it made sounded deep and soft, somewhere between the longest chord of a harp and a cat's purr.

The dragon measured maybe a foot from nose to tail, and it's wings were equally wide. She felt a strange tingling in the back of her mind, of some thought that was not hers. It was not a thought, so much as a feeling. A soft glow of contentment wrapped around her mind, warming her through. The dragon looked up at her peacefully as she stood, climbing back into the saddle. The tiny dragon curled up around the saddle horn, using the points of it's claws in the leather to hold on.

Breaker turned his head awkwardly to peer at the dragon, and he snorted. Breaker's head was bigger than the dragon's whole body, but the dragon didn't much mind: it just rubbed it's nose on Breaker's face and thrummed. Breaker snorted again, shook his head wildly and then turned to face the proper direction. Despite what had just happened, despite the fact that she had actively just defied and lied to the most powerful man in all of Algaesia. She tapped her heels to Breaker's sides and he started walking through the path that wound itself deeper into the woods than she herself had ever been. She took a deep breath.

So the journey began.


	2. Chapter 2

The days ticked by slowly, and never seemed to truly end. The sun moved in a never-ending arc, seeming to revolve around Arnina, Breaker, and the dragon and they seemed to stay still in place. The nights were never dark enough it seemed and they seemed an eternal twilight: Arnina would wait for it to get darker before stopping but it never did, and instead the sun would rise to the east and begin arcing overhead to the west.

Food had become a problem, but not too long after she left she experimented with making snares. She found an easy way to make a twitch-up snare out of grasses she tied together. While she was not necessarily full she wasn't starving, either. And soon, the dragon might just be large enough to catch food that was large enough to roast properly.

Time seemed odd to her, for as the days passed nothing seemed to change. Not the weather, not her hair, not the trees nor the streams that they seemed to pass every day at noon. None of them ever seemed tired, and the only way to know that any time at all had passed since she had fled Uru'baen was the size of the dragon.

The silver dragon no longer fit in the palm of her hand, and couldn't manage to squeeze itself under the pommel of her saddle, so instead it perched in her lap. It seemed to grow and as it did, it's mind filled hers more and more until it felt as though the serpent was a part of her mind. The thoughts of the dragon began to develop and instead of feelings, there were images: strange, bright images almost as though someone had painted it without the use of whites and blacks, only bright, vibrant, true colors. Even the gray's had depths to them she never had seen before with human eyes. Inside the dragon's head, there were also currents of feelings: not quite words so much as feelings so exact they might as well have been. And as the thoughts developed she discovered the dragon was not an it, but a he. And a proud He he was, always with his head high and a strong set to his jaw that made the light fracture off his scales in an elegant way. Then, she began to think, not only about her plight and what she was to do and not only about her magnificent dragon, but of a name.

"I've been thinking," she said, her voice sounding strange after the time alone in the woods. Breaker tilted his ears back to hear her and the dragon looked up, but the horse did not falter his pace. "You need a name. I've come up with a few options and I want you to tell me what you think. I had been thinking Lenora at first, but you're obviously a girl. But your scales remind me of crystals, so what do you think of Cryston?" The dragon thrummed, but shook his head violently. "Miremel?" The dragon hissed that time, still shaking his head. "Helindar?" Again, no. And so began a rutine, with the dragon rejecting every name she recited. As this continued and the sun drew ever nearer to the west, she began getting desperate with names. "Kient? Carron? Ohen?" Finally, she said, "Briam!" the dragon paused in his constant head shaking, seeming to ponder the name. One of his feelings threaded into her mind, seeming to say _close. _"Perhaps... Briar?"

The dragon looked up into her face, something that might well have been a smile on his scaly face. A thought hissed through her mind, for once in the form of a word: _Bbrriiiaaar. Briiaar. Briaar. Briar. _He smiled at her and curled contentedly in her lap, thrumming happily, his tail hanging from her lap.

"Briar it is," she said softly. For a while then she pondered the dragon. He was getting big, or relatively so: he was now the size of a large house cat, and his claws were twice as long. But she had seen Galbatorix's dragon before, and she knew just how large dragons could become. He wouldn't be small and tame enough to sit in her lap for much longer, or small enough to ride a horse for that matter. She looked to the sky and found the sun resting a few hand's breaths from the tops of the trees to the west. She turned and from her knapsack withdrew what remained of the roast rabbit from the night before.

She noticed as she rode on that the trees seemed to be getting smaller, thinner, more spread out. And eventually they fell away all together, and before her there was a huge plain with a small, loosely spread set of cabins. In the center there was a collection of slightly nicer buildings: a bakery, a butcher, a smith, and a carpenter, as near as she could tell. Breaker's clopping hooves came away from the knotted root-filled trail to the farmer's footpath through the field, made of dirt with knee-high grass and wheat on either side of it.

"Briar," she said softly, and the dragon looked up at her. "Briar, I want you to hide in the grass for me, alright? I don't want anyone to see you. Skirt the village, and I'll meet you on the other side." The dragon thrummed and leaped from her lap to the ground gracefully into the grass and disappeared, save for the swish of the grass where he moved. Briar snorted and skipped a step as his companion left, but then continued towards the little village at twice the pace.

Briefly, she considered buying a loaf of bread, but she then realized she had nothing to buy it with. Suddenly, seemingly from nowhere, several meters down the path just inside the village a woman stepped into the center of the path and turned to face her. The woman was dressed quite oddly, and had brown curly hair around her seemingly ageless face. In her hand she had something tied up in a large cloth that seemed to be a makeshift saddle-bag.

"Hello, Arnina," she said with a smile as Arnina drew closer. Startled, she pulled Breaker to a stop. "I've been waiting for you." Her shoulders tensed and she studied the woman before her, but try as she might she could not remember ever having seen the woman before. A cat slunk through the grass and purred around the woman's ankles: the cat seemed unusually large and intelligent, with shaggy black fur hanging around his body.

"I'm sorry, but you must have mistaken me for someone else," she said, tightening her grip on the reins in a self-conscious way of trying to hide the mark on her hand. The wind stirred the golden grass in waves and whipped the hair around her face, but didn't seem to touch the stranger. A deep feeling of unease settled in her stomach, and Breaker took an unhappy step backwards.

"Oh, of course I haven't. You're the girl who has the dragon," the woman said quite calmly, inspecting her nails. The cat made an odd chortling sound, almost as if he was laughing. Arnina struggled to hide the astonished expression on her face but must have failed, because the stranger's face broke out into a grin. "Naturally you are. In any case, I believe you might be wanting this-" she took several paces forwards and dropped the sack she was holding into Arnina's lap, and from it wafted the soft scent of fresh baked bread and the savor of roasted meat. "-and I imagine you would also like to know exactly where you ought to be going instead of aimlessly wandering through the woods?"

"I..."

"Don't even try telling me I have the wrong girl once more because trust me, dear, that line gets old rather fast," the stranger said. She flipped Arnina's hands off the the reins and jabbed a finger at the curling silver scar on her palm. "You know exactly what I am talking about. Anyway. You will be going on the path you're going on and in two days travel you will come to a fork in the road. Take the right one and follow it and then you will find me again and I will take you to the Varden."

"The Var- but they..."

"Come on now don't play ignorant," the woman said, her voice growing cold and clipped. "You know Galbatorix killed off the riders, we have the only other free Rider and Dragon in the entire world and the only chance you have of you and your dragon getting a little bit of freedom is to come along and help us."

This time Arnina didn't open her mouth, just nodded slowly.

"Very good. I will see you in a few days, then. Now, about the sack. There is exactly one loaf of bread, one compass, one map, three gold pieces, and enough roast meat for one meal. The bag is enchanted. Every time you close it, the inside will return to that: there will be one loaf of bread, one meal's worth roast meat, one map, one compass, and three gold pieces. It will refill itself, but it takes one hour for the magic to refill the bag. There is not enough for the dragon, so he will have to hunt for himself. Understood?"

"Yes," Arnina said.

"Good," the woman said, and turned to leave.

"Wait a moment," Arnina said, reaching her hand out toward the woman. "What is your name?"

"Angela," she said. Then she and the cat seemed to disappear before Arnina's very eyes and the path through the village was left empty and deserted. The grass swayed in the wind, waving and her hair drifted about her face. The bag in her lap felt warm against her skin and the scent made her stomach rumble, and far above her clouds rolled across the sky at a surprisingly fast pace. Everything around her seemed empty; not a whisper met her ears, not a bird call or a rustle from a squirrel. Far to her left she felt the touch of Briar's mind, and Breaker stamped his hooves and began walking down the trail again of his own accord.

As they rode, she looked around her but couldn't catch sight of another living soul. The trees seemed to rise up from the other side of the village, dark and sinister, bowing in the wind. Shadows raced across the ground where clouds blocked out the sun and the roots of the trees seemed to web out from the woods, extending through the earth like dark veins, rearing up from the dirt like they wanted to wrap around Breaker's hooves and drag them below the surface.

The path left the village and wove through a narrow field of corn up to the edge of the woods and they entered the darkness of the forest. A shadow seemed to fly at her from her left and she flinched sharply, but the shape that landed in her lap was scaly and silver, not anything worse. Briar curled up on her lap and was asleep in moments. His ease calmed her unsettled stomach and she wedged the bag Angela had given her out from under the dragon, and she pulled out the bread and some of the meat. Briar's nose twitched and he begged with large eyes for some of the meat, but lay his head down once she gave him only one scrap.

Even though she wasn't hungry, she didn't seem to get full, either- so she ended up eating the entire loaf and the meat before being satisfied. The sun slowly streaked itself with gold and orange, the far east turning purple and filling with stars, almost as though some magician had filled their hand with glitter and blew it into the sky. The gold turned orange, the orange turned red and pink and then that too became purple, which in turn darkened into an inky black. The moon rose up into the sky, full and white, outlining the trees in stark light.

The temperature began dropping and the clouds cleared from the sky, letting the starlight fill the path in front of her. She wondered if the woman had meant 2 days solid travel, or if the woman was expecting her to stop for the night. She figured it didn't really matter, the woman would be there or she wouldn't and if Angela wasn't, then she wasn't any worse off than she had been a day ago.

She turned in the saddle, careful not to disturb Briar, and looked through the bag until she found the compass and map. She spread the map out and traced her finger along the path she was on to about where she thought she was. She traced her finger along the thin line, the foot trail that she didn't think would be on the map, until she saw the fork the woman had said. She followed the right branch of it until it emptied into something that had a hand sketched banner on it that seemed to move, with "_The Varden" _written on it in curling script.

She tapped the name twice, and looked at it. If she was right about where she was it would probably take her three days to reach the camp. What she would do once she reached it, she didn't have a clue. Galbatorix probably had spies webbed throughout the camp, so just marching in and saying "Here I am, I've got a dragon, let's kick some ass" probably would be stupid. In fact, she didn't know who she COULD tell. Would Briar even be big enough by then to help in battle? He might be the size of a sheep-dog by the time they got there, but then again maybe not.

Breaker shuddered in something she realized was the horse equivalent of a yawn, and she started looking around for something she might be able to pass off as a camp site. Eventually she found a place where the path widened and a small game trail went off to the side. The game trail opened up by a creek and she found a tree so large it would take six full grown men to be able to reach all the way around it. Two of it's roots bucked up from the ground by two feet, making solid walls of wood in something that was just large enough to make a comfortable bed from.

She woke Briar and had him jump down before dismounting herself. She led Breaker to the tree and tethered him to a low branch. She took the saddle off and situated it on the ground between the roots by the base of the tree so she could use it as a pillow. She took the saddle blanket and put it top down on the ground, so that there wouldn't be any dirt on Breaker's back when she saddled him up tomorrow. She slid the two bags to the ground, and pulled out one of the maid's dresses to use as a blanket.

She sat on the blanket and lay down with her head on the saddle, getting situated with the dress. Breaker shifted heavily next to her and soon started snoring on his feet. Briar padded across the bottom of the saddle blanket and curled up beside her, his thoughts wrapping around hers and together they lulled into a long, quiet sleep.


End file.
